"Mr. Twain, what's the scent?"
"Tea … and …" Feeling Sophia's gaze on him with her head tilted, Twain's Adam's apple moved slightly before he muttered, "I mean, it's nothing …"
The light in the room was dim and the beauty was petite. Twain lowered his head to hide it, trying his best to suppress an indescribable impulse. No wonder Collymore would disregard everything to express his goodwill to Sophia in public. Her natural charm was indeed enough to captivate everyone …
"Mr. Twain?"
"Yes?"
"What are you looking at?" Sophia asked Twain with a smile.
"I'm … uh, I'm admiring an oil painting."
"Oil painting?"
"Yes … Mona Lisa's smile …"
As soon as he finished speaking, Sophia's face suddenly flushed red and she lowered her head shyly.
Ah! Damn it! This is too ambiguous … Twain cursed in his heart. He did not want to say this, but seeing Sophia, he could not control his tongue. Wood, Wood, if you don't come back soon, I'll … I'll!
The sound of a door opening came from downstairs.
Twain, who was struggling with himself, heaved a sigh of relief and slumped into the chair. God! His back is wet!
Following the sound of hurried footsteps, Wood appeared at the door of the room. He was stunned when he saw Twain sitting at the dining table.
Sophia went up to him and took the bag from her son's hands. She asked with concern, "Where have you been, George? Why did you spend more than an hour … Oh! "She frowned. Wood's body exuded a strong smell of alcohol. "You've been drinking, George?" Her tone became stern.
Hearing Sophia's words, Twain turned to look at Wood carefully. There were no scratches or bruises on his face. His gaze moved from top to bottom, and he finally saw a black mark on the knee of Wood's trousers. Although it had been repeatedly slapped by the owner of the trousers, Twain could still be sure that it was a shoe print.
"No, Mother." Wood shook his head.
Sophia had no intention of letting Wood off. She fanned herself with her hands and asked, "Then what's with the smell of alcohol on you?"
"I passed by Bar Street on my way back and bumped into a few drunkards. They were a little difficult to deal with, so it took me some time. "Wood tried to look as if nothing had happened.
"Open your mouth, George." Sophia motioned for Wood to open his mouth and exhale.
Wood did as he was told. Sophia moved closer to her son's mouth, raised her little nose and sniffed hard. Then, she gently rubbed Wood's cheek. "Go wash your face. Look at your face, it's all sweaty. Mr. Twain came looking for you. He has been waiting for a long time. "
Wood glanced at Twain and then obediently went to the bathroom.
Sophia smiled apologetically at Twain. Twain shrugged to show that he understood. The doubts in his mind could already be confirmed. Ain said goodbye. Then he rose and said to Sophia, "I am sorry, madame. I think I should go back. It's getting late. "
Hearing Twain's words, Sophia did not hide her disappointment. The smile on her face disappeared. Of course, she knew that Tang En's request was very normal. She had no reason to keep a man at home when it was almost eleven o 'clock.
"What a pity, Mr. Twain." Sophia sighed and pointed at the untouched black tea and biscuits on the table. "You haven't eaten yet."
"If not for Wood's return, Twain might not have left tonight." He looked at Sophia's suddenly desolate face. "Madam," he consoled, "I think … there will be more opportunities like this in the future."
Hearing Twain's words, Sophia raised her head in joy, her face glowing.
Wood walked out of the bathroom. He frowned. He leaned against the door and looked at the two of them in the middle of the room. He did not say anything.
Twain saw him come out and quickly looked away from Sophia. He waved at him. "George, I'm leaving. Aren't you going to send me off?"
Standing outside the room, Twain chatted casually with Wood while waiting for Landy to pick him up. He knew Sophia was watching them from the window upstairs. Wood did not want his mother to worry too much. Twain was the same.
"George, I have a piece of news for you." Twain decided to test the waters to confirm his suspicions. "That bastard who touched your mother on the sidelines was just beaten up. Do you know who did it?" As he said this, Twain stared at Wood, hoping to find some clues.
But he was disappointed. Wood didn't even blink.
"I don't know." There was no emotion in his voice.
This kid!
But you're too calm. So calm that it doesn't seem like it's the first time you've heard the news. You're still too young to play with me.
All the doubts in Twain's mind were cleared. But he did not expose him. He only smiled and nodded. "Very good. I was worried it was you. It's good that it wasn't."
The street in front of him was lit up by two beams of light. Twain knew Landy's chauffeur had arrived. He was about to say goodbye to Wood when he suddenly remembered something. "Oh, and … hmm, I think, if there are no accidents, I won't be able to train with you every day from tomorrow onwards. I won't be directing your matches anymore."
Wood turned around and looked at Tang En. "Are you leaving?"
"Yes, I'm leaving." Twain suddenly wanted to tease the inflexible child. He nodded.
"Where are you going?"
"South."
"Is it very far?"
"I think so …" Looking at the child who still did not show the slightest reluctance, Twain was a little disappointed. Was there not even a bit of teacher-student bond?
Wood was silent for a while. Then, he turned his back to Twain and said, "Oh, then goodbye."
This bastard!
Twain decided not to play anymore. He waved and shouted, "Wait! Forget it. I lied to you. I'm actually going to the south. But it's only five meters away from your training base in the youth team. It's just the width of an alley! "
He had just finished speaking when Wood suddenly turned around and glared at Twain. His gaze was definitely not one of joy. Instead, it was one of anger after being lied to.
Faced with the child's gaze, Twain did not know how to explain his little trick on the spur of the moment. He could only continue awkwardly. "Uh, if everything goes smoothly, I'll be the manager of Forest's First Team from tomorrow onwards. When that time comes, I'll have to leave the youth team, but you'll still have to continue training and competing in the youth team. "
Not far away, Landy pressed on the horn and urged Twain.
"I have to go, George. I hope you can continue to listen to Mr. Kerslake and the other coaches, and train and compete seriously. You're doing very well now. All of us think that if you can continue like this, it won't be a problem for you to earn 120,000 pounds a week! " Twain knew that if he wanted to stir up the boy's fighting spirit, glory and passion would not be of use. There was only one key word — money!
"Do well, kid! I'll keep an eye on the youth team. If you perform well there, I'll promote you to the First Team. When that time comes, you'll sign a completely different contract. Do you know how much you'll get at the minimum weekly salary then? "
Wood shook his head.
Twain calculated in his heart. The club's financial situation had improved, and the players' salaries would increase accordingly. If Wood were to continue his outstanding performance in the youth team, he would be able to sign him to the senior team for at least 1,500 pounds. So, he said to Wood, "At least 1,500 pounds a week! And that doesn't include other bonuses! "
The expression on Wood's face finally changed again. It looked like he was very satisfied. Twain was also very satisfied with Wood's performance. So, he smiled and waved at him. "Work hard! Remember, George, no matter where you are, the better your performance, the more money you'll get! "
He turned back to the car and closed the door. The taxi quickly drove away. Wood stood outside the door for a while before returning.
Sophia saw Wood return and asked, "George, what were you guys talking about?"
Wood opened his mouth slightly and revealed a rare smile. "Money. Mom, we'll have money soon. "
Sophia lovingly stretched out her hand to stroke her son's hair. "Little fool. George, you have to listen to Mr. Twain. He's a very, very good person. " As she said that, Sophia looked out the window at the dark streets. Twain's car had long since left.
Wood broke away from his mother's caress and looked at her. Suddenly, he asked, "Mom, you like him?"
Hearing her son say that, Sophia panicked. She quickly retracted her gaze from the window and looked at Wood before looking away again. "Ah, no, no, that's impossible! How … How is that possible? "She desperately avoided her son's gaze.
Hearing his mother's answer and looking at her reaction, Wood did not say anything. He only continued to look at his mother in silence, as if he could see through everything.
Sophia coughed and straightened her face. "Alright, George, you should go to sleep."
"Goodnight, Mom." Wood kissed Sophia's face.
"Goodnight, George." Sophia kissed his forehead back.
Wood returned to his own room and closed the door. The lights turned on and off again.
Sophia returned to the dining table. She propped one hand on the table and propped her chin up. She stared blankly at the cup of cold black tea and the untouched biscuits. Thinking of the moment when she and Twain were alone, time no longer existed. Everything seemed to freeze around her and then be placed in a frame, stored in the bottom of her heart.
She sighed softly and put away the cups and plates on the table.
When she turned around, the unlatched door to Wood's room was gently closed.
"… There are six of them! Six strong football players! I don't know where they came from. I didn't even know them before. Just as I was about to leave, they attacked me in an alley! It was a sneak attack, a sneak attack! Otherwise, I wouldn't have lost to them at all. Who do you think I am? I'm Stan Collymore! "
"Hahahaha!" Twain and Evan, who were watching the television, could no longer hold it in and laughed.
Collymore, who was lying on the hospital bed and being interviewed by the television, spoke with his spittle flying everywhere. He vividly described his bravery of "one against six." Twain, who knew the inside story, laughed so hard that he bent over. As for why Evan was also laughing so happily, it was because of another matter.
Now, the program they were watching on television was only the news. The videos shown on the news were generally not live broadcasts. Therefore, at this moment, the unlucky man who shouted "I'm Stan Collymore" could no longer be so excited during the interview.
The reason was simple. He had already been terminated from his contract by Nottingham Forest Football Club in the morning.
No one expressed surprise, confusion, or protest. At a time when the team's results were so bad, Collymore still had a scandal of being beaten up in a bar. If they did not fire him, who would they fire? Even though Evan Doughty would inevitably be blamed for making a "wrong decision," did anyone really think that the chairman, who held 75% of the club's shares, would transfer his shares and resign just because he found the wrong manager?
Stan Collymore had ended his half-season coaching career, which had been a failure. This experience would forever be engraved in his heart, regardless of whether he would regain his position as manager in the future.
As for Collymore's successor, there was almost no doubt about it.
At this moment, was there anyone more suitable than him?
"It's about time, Tony. Let's go. "Evan Doughty looked at the watch on his wrist.
"Okay." Twain nodded.
The two stood up and pushed open the door to the chairman's office. Miss Barbara Lucy was already waiting for them outside.
Downstairs, the dark red Audi A6 was quietly parked by the door. The driver was on standby, and the door was already open.
The destination of the car was the City Ground stadium, where dozens of media reporters were waiting for a press conference to begin.
Outside the stadium, there was also a small group of fans gathered, led by a fat man. They wore red Forest jerseys and dressed up as if they were going to watch a game. In front of the cameras, they sang loudly as if there was no one else around. These fans, who attracted the attention of the reporters, held up a large cartoon portrait with the words:
Welcome back, Tony!
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